Link
by ThoseTearsThatFall
Summary: Jonsey has been in jail for a while now, but Jim has just received a letter from Sergeant Molinson. This is the day that he loses everything. My take on Jim and Jonsey's final meeting. WARNING: Vague storyline!
1. Chapter 1

Link.

A/N: This is my very first, and probably last, fanfic, so I'd find all constructive criticism that anyone might have on this story very helpful. Also, if anyone is looking for romance, you probably won't find much of it here, since I think that as a thirteen year old (Don't judge!) I'm a little too young to write about and understand the nature of such things. I've also only read up to book sixteen of the series, since that is all I have been able to find, so if you feel that i'm missing something in my writing... I'm sorry. This could take place any time during which Jim is a teenager, and it is my take on the final, and probably more tragic, confrontation between Jones and Jim.

Disclaimer: I do not own Trixie Belden. All rights go to the publishers and the writers.

* * *

The day was dreary, the house was empty, and nobody knew what was going on in the room upstairs.

Because nobody was there.

Because nobody had found out yet.

This was what always happened when Jim Frayne faced the death of another. Because he was always the first one to find out, and then he was alone to deal with the first few hours.

But, usually, he was expecting it, and waiting for the pain to come. This was something that was unexpected - something that he had never really thought about.

For that, it had hit him so much harder, and he had shed tears for a man that he had never loved.

The letter slipped from his numb fingers and onto the floor, but Jim had already memorized the words:

_Mr Frayne, _

_It is my duty to inform you of the slowly deteriorating life of one Jacob Jones. I have been informed by medics that he is in his final days, and am bound by duty as an officer of the law to tell you of his continuous requests for your presence._

_Please note that I am aware of your position in this man's life._

_Sincerely,_

_Sergeant Molinson, Sleepyside Police Station._

He found himself shaking, and lowered himself onto the bed, feeling almost scared at his own reaction.

"That man is a monster!" he reminded himself aloud, but his voice shook unsurely, and he drew his knees to his chest, burying his face in his hands. Jim hated how stupid this was - never, in his wildest dreams, had he imagined that he would be upset by his greatest enemy's looming death. But here he was, reduced to a shaking wreck, a single sentence running through his mind:

'_... To tell you of his continued requests for your presence.'_

Despite their history, Jim had never felt so compelled to grant any man's wish before.

For a long while he sat there, perfectly still, telling himself again and again that Jonsey was not worthy of his pity.

"He tried to kill Juliana," he hissed internally, "He tried to kill _Trixie_!"

When this, to his own surprise, triggered no reaction from his brain, he slowly uncurled from his tight ball.

"He was trying to kill me."

Then something snapped. He was down the stairs before he knew it, putting on his coat and slipping into the freezing winter air.

Nobody would notice his absence - this much he knew. Miss Trask and Regan were in the flat above the stables doing something-or-other, his parents and Honey had gone to town to do some shopping before Christmas, to which he had politely declined, the Beldens were on a family day trip a little ways south, Dan was working for Mr Maypenny, and Di was babysitting the twins. He was completely alone, and the thought made his blood turn to ice.

The letter had failed to mention the exact location of his stepfather, but once Jim was in the car, he seemed to go on autopilot, and when he stopped the engine and looked out the window it was to be greeted by the sight of Sleepyside Police Station.

The reception area was completely deserted when Jim walked in, and the man behind the desk slowly raised his head... then froze. Spider Webster had never looked so shocked - or dismayed.

"Why did you come?" he inquired in a low voice.

"Tell me he's here," Jim said without acknowledging the other's question, "Spider, please tell me he's here!"

Spider didn't take his eyes off Jim's face as he rose, his expression morphing into one of confusion and pity. "He's here," he assured the teenager, "But I don't understand... why...?"

"Take me to him."

Jim was almost pleading, and there was something - a little spark in his eyes - that made Spider nod, completely disregarding Molinson's order to 'Keep him away at all costs. For his own good.' He led Jim through a door and down to the med bay, glancing back when the other spoke again:

"Why was he not moved to the hospital?"

Spider's reply was rehearsed. "Too dangerous."

As they neared the end of the hall, Spider lay a hand on Jim's arm, effectively stopping the other in his tracks.

"Do you even know why he's asking for you, Jim?" The boy gave him a sharp glance.

"Do you?"

Spider sighed, and moved his hand to Jim's shoulder. "That man hates you with everything he's got."

For a moment Jim was silent. "That's exactly why I have to go in there. And he's the only remainder of my... my old life." he looked up, "Which room?"

The policeman pointed, and the red-haired youth opened the door and disappeared inside without a backwards glance.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Jim finally let the reality of his actions sink in. His mind and feelings were already a muddled mess, but when he saw the plain white bed in the center of the room, he swore that he almost lost it - memories of his parents returned in a tidal wave of emotions. He barely managed to swallow them back down, and forced himself forwards.

At first he saw nothing - just an empty bed - but then he drew closer, and the figure in the bed became apparent, staring with those wicked eyes at the approaching boy.

Jim had never seen, or expected to see, his stepfather so weak: his skin was white and papery, and his usually oily hair had become dull and limp. Even his eyes seemed sunken in, but they had not lost their insane gleam.

To Jim's surprise, Jonsey raised an arm to point at him, and used the other to raise himself in the bed.

"_You_."

His voice was raspy and weak, but the malice was undeniably clear. Jim found himself edging closer.

"Me," he said, sounding calmer than he felt. Jonsey smirked.

"They tell you... you're like your father..." his lips curled into a sneer, "They're wrong."

Jim was almost beside him now, and his stepfather was panting with effort.

"You're too much... too much... like your mother," Jim came closer, straining to hear his breathy words. Jonsey allowed himself a wider smile, "And you must not... taint... her memory."

There was a split second of silence, then Jonsey, seemingly gathering all his remaining strength, snatched Jim's wrist and produced a needle from under his covers, slicing into the teenager's palm. Then he fell back against the pillows, breathing heavily. Jim froze, too stunned, horrified, or both to move.

Jonsey's sparking eyes locked onto his, and the man released his final breath:

_"I win_."

Then his eyes glazed and his jaw went slack - his face frozen in mirthless insanity. The whole room suddenly reeked of death, and Jim choked, forcing himself away from the madman's body and out into the corridor again.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() ()()()

He had returned home to find it exactly as he had left it, securely locking himself in his room to examine his injury.

Jonsey's motives remained a mystery to him, but the look of victory in the man's eyes as he had drawn back and dropped the needle was unforgettable. Jim looked down at the wound, knowing that he should treat it, but instead he stared at it and pondered.

It would definitely scar, and was certainly something that Brian and Trixie would notice straight away. However, rather than focussing on this, Jim fell back on his bed and cradled the injury to his chest.

To him, it served as a reminder that the last link to his old life was gone.

It was a reminder that he had lost everything.

* * *

A/N: So, liked, didn't like? Please tell me! I hope that none of the characters were OOC! This is meant to be a one-shot, but if anyone thinks otherwise, please mention it!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Right, I know that I should have updated this earlier owing to the amount of reviews I received... I also owe all of you an explanation, because that chapter was terribly vague. So, basically, this chapter is a filler on all those little unclear spots from before, and is also expanding a little on my original idea. If there's something that you still want to be cleared up, please tell me and I'll make an effort to respond sooner. As I have mentioned before, this will not have any romance in it. Nothing else to say, really. So, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Trixie Belden, The writers and publishers have all the rights.

* * *

Brian sat slumped in the back seat of the Belden's car, trying fruitlessly to block out the sound of Mart and Trixie's constant bickering. Beside him, Bobby bounced in his seat, even more excited than when the family had left that morning, the reason being that Moms had to make a quick stop at Mrs Vanderpoel's house to drop off a few items and packages. Bobby was more excited about cookies and milk, it seemed, than seeing the kindly old woman herself, but Brian would be glad of the distraction. He needed an excuse to rid himself of his younger sibling's arguments for a while.

By the time they had stopped and piled out of the car, the old lady was already waiting for them at her front door. She beamed at them as they approached.

"How lovely it is to see all you young people!" She exclaimed, "I recently heard of your new fundraising project - it's for a noble cause, and I'll be sure to come to the raffle. But inside, quickly! We don't want you all to catch a cold before Christmas." and she bustled them through the door.

While Bobby consumed his long-awaited cookies and milk, Brian sat with Trixie and Mart by the fire, who had enough decency to at least attempt civil conversation. Outside, a car door slammed. _Ah_, Brian thought to himself, _that would be Spider coming back from work. _

Mrs Vanderpoel looked up as the front door opened. She smiled brightly at the policeman as he came in, but the smile soon slipped from her face as she took in his grave expression.

Brian stood very slowly as Spider released a shuddering breath. He could see that the man was trying to word something out in his head. Something that was, evidently, relatively serious.

"Thank god you guys are here," he managed finally, looking over the Belden family, "You all know Jim well." Brian instantly felt a bubble of concern rise in his chest. He saw Trixie frown from her place in the armchair. Spider shook his head. "I would have called Matt Wheeler, but the phone line was dead. It has been since yesterday afternoon."

"What's going on?" Trixie asked quickly, cutting him off and coming to stand beside Brian. "Spider, has something happened?"

There was a brief moment where Spider collected himself, cleared his throat and began again. "That's just it, Trixie," he said, "I'm not entirely sure." taking in their confused expressions, he continued, "Yesterday afternoon, Sergeant Molinson sent a letter up to the Manor House. Jim's stepfather-" here, every person in the room tensed, "was in the medical ward. Dying, it seemed. The Sarge was bound by law to tell Jim... He knew the kid would come as soon as he heard, and warned me not to let him in, considering who the guy was." Spider stopped for a moment, allowing the information to sink in.

"And?" Brian pressed anxiously, noticing how ashamed the policeman now looked.

"Well, he did come. This morning - he must have just received the letter. I tried to tell him not to go in but... he looked so desperate. I couldn't stop him. He was in there for no longer than two minutes before he came back out again. His hand was bleeding - I tried to talk to him but he just left. Didn't speak a word. Didn't even acknowledge that I was there." Spider shook his head again. "When I entered Jones' room, the man was dead, clutching an empty syringe. The medical staff didn't leave it there, and it had traces of blood on it - along with small flecks of some sort of poison." He paused, judging whether he should continue or not. "We believe it is the same poison that was found in Jones' system before he died. As soon as I could, I tried to call anyone who might be able to help - for all I know, Jim was injected with poison - but, like I said, the phone line was cut. I came here to see whether the phone here was any different."

Trixie leapt towards the door. "Come on!" she cried, "We have to get to Manor House!"

Brian followed her, pausing briefly to speak to Spider. "Are you sure that Jim's stepfather cut him with the syringe?"

"The man was completely mad," Spider answered, "It's more than likely."

With that, Brian was out the door, Spider offering to drive them, and their father telling them that he would try to ring Manor House.

Trixie was practically crying. "I thought we were rid of him!" she said, "But he always manages to come back, in one way or another."

Mart, Trixie and Brian all followed Spider to his car, and once they were all inside Brian began to question him again.

"Do you think it's that serious?" He could see Trixie glaring at him, shocked and angry at how skeptical he sounded. Brian wasn't, of course - it seemed to him that he was trying to calm his nerves by ensuring what had happened wasn't really as serious as what he had heard.

Spider glanced at him. "There was a lot of blood," he said slowly, "And the poison in the needle is fatal if a large amount is taken."

Mart heaved a sigh. "Jeepers!" he muttered under his breath, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Only Jim would be that..." he trailed off.

As soon as Manor House loomed into view, Trixie began urging Spider to drive faster. Brian could see the Wheelers climbing out of their car near the front of the house, and the four of them jumped from Spider's car the moment that the vehicle stopped. Honey turned as they hurried towards her.

"Hello - oh, Spider! What are you -"

Brian interrupted her. "Is Jim upstairs?" he asked desperately, "Have you seen him?"

Honey looked confused, and Mr and Mrs Wheeler came to stand behind her, frowning worriedly.

"We only just arrived," Mr Wheeler explained, "We haven't had a chance to go inside yet..."

He didn't finish as the Beldens went tearing up the front steps and into the house.

It was eerily quiet, strongly reminding Brian of a ghost-house. He pushed the thought from his mind and slowed his pace as he reached Jim's bedroom door. With his heart in his mouth, Brian pushed it soundlessly open.

Jim snapped his head upwards from where he had been lying on his bed, and judging from his expression, he had quickly figured out what it was that had brought them all here. Brian crossed the room in three strides and looked down at him for a short moment before breathing a sigh of relief:

"You _idiot._"

Jim pulled a face - a mixture between a grimace of pain and a sad smile - before slowly sitting up. Trixie and Mart stood in the doorway. Spider stood just behind. Brian knew that it wouldn't be long before the Wheelers followed.

Spider gave a low whistle. "You gave us a right scare, Jim." he said, rubbing his eye. Jim pulled the face again, only this time he looked lost as well. Brian reached out slowly and took his left hand, flipping it so that it was palm up.

He held his breath as he examined the wound, noting how deep it was and the infection spreading out across the now inflamed skin. But even Brian could tell that if the poison was as deadly as Spider described it to be, there hadn't been enough of it to seriously affect Jim's entire body. He let out the breath very slowly, letting relief wash over him as Spider moved forward to second his decision.

"The poison would be showing by now," he said, "There mustn't have been enough in the needle."

"So that was what was in it," Jim murmured, almost sadly, but smiled reassuringly at Trixie as she came to stand in front of him. Honey, with Mr and Mrs Wheeler followed her, all of them worried.

Mr Wheeler took one look at Jim before demanding an explanation. Spider responded quickly, explaining to them what he had told the Beldens. Mrs Wheeler took her son's hand in her own.

"I'm fine," he told her earnestly as she opened her mouth to speak. "It's just a cut."

"That's not what worries us the most," Mrs Wheeler said, now searching his eyes with her own.

"Jones -" Mr Wheeler paused as he caught a flash of what seemed to be grief in Jim's eyes. "It should have been obvious, son, that he meant no good to come out of speaking with you. You could have avoided all of this," he gestured at Jim's hand, "If you hadn't visited him." he softened his tone slightly as he spoke. "You know that he has never had any good intentions towards you, so why -"

"So why would I grant his dying wish?" Jim finished bluntly. The room was silent. "Everything that used to be my life - my biological parents, where I used to live - I've somehow found that I can trace my life back... through him." Trixie frowned thoughtfully, and Jim went on. "He was the last... direct link that I had to my mother, really. I didn't know Juliana when I was younger, so she doesn't quite remind me of her as much as he did. When I received the letter, I thought that maybe... maybe my stepfather had realised that. He wasn't completely rotten through-and-through. But then, just after he..." Jim made a slashing motion through the air, "he said that he'd 'won'. Then I realised that he'd never actually, even remotely, cared."

"He'd won?" Trixie echoed. "What did he mean by that?"

Jim shook his head. "I have no idea."

The silence was broken by Mart clearing his throat.

"I brought bandages and antiseptic," he said softly, holding up the proffered items to his brother. Spider muttered a last insult at the dead criminal before turning to Mr Wheeler.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't able to contact you sooner," he apologised, "Sergeant Molinson will happily answer any questions that you might have."

Mr Wheeler nodded grimly, and the policeman left.

Trixie turned to Jim. "So, he's really gone this time?" she asked. Jim nodded.

For the first time in his life, Brian felt glad for the death of a man.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() ()()()()

Jim lay awake late that night, his hand now strapped securely in bandages. His parents kept glancing at him as though he was a piece of glass, just waiting to shatter, and he hated it.

He had, of course, shocked them all with the news that he was actually relatively sad about his stepfather's death. He knew that none of them, however, felt any remorse whatsoever, and this somehow saddened him further.

His stepfather's final words floated, unbidden, through his mind:

"_I win_."

And suddenly, Jim understood.

His stepfather had injected himself with the poisoned syringe, not because he was insane, as the police seemed to think, but because he had known.

He had known that Jim was using him as a link to look back at all of his childhood memories. So he had severed that link in the only way that he could. The poison he had tried to inject Jim with would have been an added bonus if Jim had died as well.

"Just enough time to realise it before I died." He whispered. "Absolutely _brilliant_."

And for the first time in a long time, he cried.

* * *

AN: God, that was depressing to write. I'm not sure how this chapter turned out, so reviews are really appreciated! Thank you to all who gave this a chance!


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